


No One Mortal Can Resist

by megyal



Category: Bandom
Genre: Bondage, Multi, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-10-12
Updated: 2006-10-12
Packaged: 2017-10-27 04:37:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/291698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megyal/pseuds/megyal





	No One Mortal Can Resist

Pete was in the middle of singing _Thriller_ (or rather, saying the Vincent Price part, and cackling most righteously) when he came up with the fantastic idea of dressing up for Halloween and going trick or treating in the hotel.

Three weeks early.

Gabe thought it was the most spectacular idea he had heard in weeks, apart from that one time he had convinced William that his navel was probably the best place from which to consume too much chocolate.

Maja thought it was pretty nice, and even came up with the idea: Prisoner and Warder.

Patrick thought they were all idiots.

*

Finding prisoner's and warder's costumes was a little harder than previously thought, so Pete rummaged through the cloth bag he called luggage, came up with a striped shirt, and used a marker to ink some numbers on the back, and paired that with his pajama pants (that had Snoopy on them, but prisoners can't be choosers). Gabe wore his jeans. And a shirt marked "hot shit" on the front; the epitome of warder fashion.

But to complete the effect, Gabe got out his handcuffs (Patrick had been scandalised, but not really). They were cute, pink and fluffy, and Pete had been beside himself with delight. Well, mostly beside Gabe, but he was still delighted. And off they went, Pete successfully trussed up, hands behind his back, like the dangerous axe-murderer-poodle-killer he was, and Gabe calling out "Dead Man Walking!"

*

They trick or treated the whole sixteenth floor. Some of the fourteenth. The ninth. Not floor 12b (really 13, Pete said that was far too contrived). They got a surprising amount of pillow mints, a Cherry Coke, a bag of Doritos, and someone gave them a small paper-wrapped hotel soap. Not a bad haul. Not bad for a faux-halloween at all.

They tumbled back into Patrick and Pete's room, slamming shut the door and giggling fit to split; Patrick rose one brown eyebrow while lounging against the bedhead with his laptop. Gabe had the soap in his mouth.

"Twik o twwweeeet!" Gabe hollered around the soap, and Patrick grimaced while smiling, a peculiar Stump talent. Pete was still handcuffed, trying to glower, but it didn't really work around the chesire-type grin he had on his face. Or the bag of Doritos dangling from his teeth. He spat that out as they came near the bed, and said (and _so_ not noticing the dark, contemplative look forming on Patrick's face as Patrick closed his laptop and put it carefully on the floor, under the bed), "Dude, you missed, like, the _most_ fun ever."

Pete seemed to think that Patrick was fun-deficient.

Gabe took out the handcuff-key out of his pocket, and before he could unlock Pete's hands, Patrick was off the bed faster than you could say t _he evil of the thriller_ and took the key from him.

"Wait a minute. I think I want to see how much fun I can get in," Patrick commented blithely and Pete tried not to look _too_ overjoyed.

"Okay," Gabe agreed just as lightly, taking back the key and tossing it on the nearest of the bedside tables, and Pete was at the point where his face was probably _drenched_ in overjoyed, but this was one of his many dreams come true. Yeah, yeah, he had fucked Gabe maybe once, and Patrick like, _thousands_ of times (he was counting the stage-kisses. And the gropage. And the dreams) so this was like a total bood-rushing-downwards moment, here. Patrick was arching an eyebrow still (he must have thought it was devastatingly sexy, and he was right) and moved in closer, putting his hands on Pete's shoulders and running them down his arms. He leaned forward even more and then slurped on Pete's neck, licking at the smooth skin, and Pete could feel Gabe's heated body pressing against his back, and ooooohh, Gabe's tongue was making a smooth wet circuit on the other side of his neck. Pete deemed this to be the best three-week early Halloween in his _life_ , and he was trying to burn the every sensory memory of it in his head as they moved him to the bed.

He attempted to bring his hands around the hold onto Patrick (maybe to ground himself, make sure that this shit was _real_ ) and, shit, _handcuffs_ , and he was going to whine right about now.

"Patrick. Get these off me. Ooof!" This last was caused by Gabe shoving him onto the bed face-first, and he rolled a little, and was stopped on his side by Patrick's steady hand. He ended up face to face with Patrick again, who had completely abandoned the whole cute effect he usually had going on, and was trying seductive on for size, and while he certainly was not a William Beckett, who had spicy-hot as a second skin, he was certainly having the desired effect on Pete's....ahhmm....nether-regions.

"What's this? What's this?" Patrick intoned in the most sugary of tones, his hand snaking in between them, and tweaking the drawstring of Pete's pajamas, pulling them open just as Pete felt Gabe settle in behind him and laugh softly, his breath tickling the short hairs at the back of Patrick's neck.

"Oh _god_ , Patrick. Skeleton Jack in the middle of a threesome? Come on."

"It's a Halloween song," Patrick replied pointedly, snaking his hand onto Pete's un-underweared cock and giving a questioning squeeze. Pete groaned a little, hardening even more under the attention of Patrick's hand, and then moaned louder to urge on Gabe's hand that was stroking up under his shirt.

"You could have chosen the _This is Halloween_ one, dude," Gabe retorted, rolling his hips leisurely and making his hardness stroke against Pete's bound hands. Pete made grabby hands at it, but Gabe just giggled and kept moving, roliing back and forth.

"Yeah, but that's the one I know all the wor-"

" _Excuse_ me, but as much as I love the Pumpkin King, can somebody fuck me now? Please?" Pete's voice verged straight from a sturdy demand to a breathless needy begging, and Patrick responded by facetiously chanting _I want it, oh, I want it, oh, I want it for my own_ , abandoning the Languid Fisting of Pete's Cock to get on with the Divesting Pete of his Pajama-Pants. Gabe reached his hand around smartly and tugged on Pete's cock as Patrick slid the soft pants off with expert flair, grinning at Pete's flushed face.

*

Patrick was still looking with affectionate care in Pete's face when Gabe decided to enter him; Pete, still in his shirt (hands still cuffed), whimpered at the damp harsh slickness at his entrance, and was thanking his goodness gracious stars that Patrick had found some lube and had spent some minutes reaching around him and gently preparing the puckered flesh, sliding and scissoring those fingers, while Gabe nibbled thoughtfully on his ear. This was amazingly crazy, he remembered thinking as Patrick's hand had slipped free, pulling Pete's leg onto his own upper thigh, then reaching around again and guiding Gabe in, starting to kiss Pete and swallowing his whimpers quite easily. Pete vaguely noted that Patrick was still completely dressed, jeans against bare inner thigh, but that just increased...increased _whatever_ , and Pete was shuddering and mewling (mewling!) and he was on his side being thrust into, rocked into, hands still bound and pulled up a bit, uncomfortable for his biceps, and Patrick's breath was demanding on his face; Patrick's hands were well placed commands on his cock, coaxing him as Gabe was convincing him just as well, stroking against the spongy mass of his prostate and making Pete feel like he was riding the lightning; he was quite ready to go mad from the stimulation or come, whichever occured first.

Gabe was murmuring in his ear.

"Come, Petey. Come for us."

And Patrick whispering the same thing in the same ear (which meant his and Gabe's lips were probably sliding against each other); and Pete felt his thigh clench onto Patrick's as the lightning crashed, and he could hear himself making short harsh gasps as he came, and then Gabe did practically the same thing, sounding remarkably like Pete; but Patrick gave a little hoarse breathless laugh and said (as Pete blinked blearily, and Gabe slid slowly out),"So. That was pretty hot. Who's next?"

*

Pete remembered probably a little too late that Patrick could be extremely vocal, (re: screamer), but he figured it meshed in with the whole Halloween theme.


End file.
